Troubled Thoughts
by Jonescalypso
Summary: Bakura can't stand the thought of Marik with anyone else.  Just a random oneshot for the sake of posting something in the midst of this dry spell i'm in . Thiefshipping. Rated M to be safe.


**AN: Ok this one's pretty much crap just because i'm desperate to get SOMETHING posted and hope it cures my insufferable writer's block. I'm at work right now and though I can't imagine labeling thousands of plastic bottles by hand could get any more fun (.o) My throbbing migraine INSISTED I take a break and write. So i'm procrastinating. I'll get back to it once i've posted this. **

**But just keep that in mind please, while reading this. That it was rushed, not thoroughly thought out or anything and I had a migraine when i wrote it... Try to enjoy it if you can. I hope to have something worth reading up soon :/ **

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><p><strong>"Troubled Thoughts"<strong>

...

Bakura left the group of annoying teenagers mingling in the common room of Kaiba's blimp. He'd seen Marik head back down the hallway to his room, so Bakura headed there now. The pointless chatter of the others was boring and he figured arguing with the blonde would be a least a _little_ entertaining. He found Marik's door and raised his to knock, though he cared not if he was granted entrance.

He stopped, hand raided -

There were noises coming faintly through the closed door. Bakura leaned closer. Heavy breathing it sounded like, and a moan. And another. Bakura smirked. _Just what gives you the need to get yourself off already, Marik? _He grinned at the thought of catching the young man in the humiliating act and opened the door.

He froze.

Marik stood pressed against the wall, eyes closed and mouth open with heavy panting. While behind him, an arm wrapped around his abdomen and hips thrusting into his backside was none other than - Joey Wheeler! Bakura's mouth fell open, eyes narrowing slightly. The others took no notice of him as Joey thrusted harder into Marik, hand lost in the Egyptian's hair as the tan one tilted his head back with louder moans. He sounded like he was in a state of complete ecstasy. Bakura frowned as Joey doubled his pace and let out loud grunts of his own, blending his voice with the other blonde's.

And then it was over. Each of them giving a final cry of bliss before panting and leaning into one another.

"Marik," Bakura said roughly. Marik looked over his shoulder and closed his eyes in displeasure. Joey looked too and with a short gasp, reached down to pull his pants up.

"Cat's out of the bag," Marik muttered, adjusting himself back into his own jeans.

"Ain'tcha ever heard'a knockin, Bakura!" Joey yelled.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Marik?" Bakura demanded, only just realizing his own anger.

"What's it to you?" Marik asked, raising his eyebrow in that cocky manner he had.

"If you can't handle yourself, you could've asked me to handle you instead," Bakura said.

"You're services aren't required for this, Bakura," Marik said simply, flipping his hair over his shoulder.

"Fine," Bakura growled, "But Joey-fucking-Wheeler! I could sooner see you with _Yugi_! I'd have expected you to go for that Devlin punk before touching _this_ mutt."

"What!" Joey yelled.

"Eww!" Marik made a face. "Don't even joke about that!"

Joey looked back at Marik, "Whadda ya mean 'eww'?"

Marik glared at him, "What do you mean what do I mean?"

Bakura lowered his head, "So this is how you want it?"

Marik sighed in annoyance and moved his hand to his hip, "We have our deals, Bakura, but I need variety in my personal pleasure." He looked sidelong at Joey, scanning him with his lavender eyes, before looking back at Bakura. "Nothing personal." He gave a smirk of his own.

Then everything faded.

Bakura's head hurt and he closed his eyes, shaking it slightly. When he opened them, he was in his room. He frowned into the darkness and glanced at the clock. Quarter to two in the morning. He rolled onto his back with a huff. What in the world was _that?_ Marik and Wheeler? _Wheeler? _And why Kaiba's blimp? The Battle City Tournament had been almost two years ago. He and Marik had moved in together soon after they'd found one another again and had been together ever since. Bakura sat up and ran his hands over his face, letting out a heavy sigh.

So why would he dream something like that? And so vividly… His mind trailed off for a moment before the word hit him. 'Instincts'. No… Marik wouldn't touch that pathetic waste of wit, let alone _be_ touched by him… Would he? Bakura's chest suddenly became very tight. He blamed it on anger as he threw the covers off and stomped out of his room.

Just the thought, the _thought_ of Marik with someone else was intolerable. Unforgivable… Unbearable. Especially with someone as insolent, idiotic, rambunctious, infuriating- Bakura didn't bother to knock as he stormed into the dark of Marik's bedroom and turned on the bedside lamp. He also didn't let himself be dissuaded by the appealing way the light fell over the Egyptian's sleeping form as he climbed onto the bed and straddled the teen, both hands at either side of the blonde's head.

"Wake up!" Bakura barked.

"Mmgh," Marik made a face and grumbled in confusion, trying to shift his position and gradually realizing he couldn't move far. He opened his bleary eyes and frowned at Bakura. "Wha-"

"Are you screwing around?" the thief demanded.

"Mwha-?" Marik mumbled again, rubbing at his eyes.

"Are you sleeping with that Wheeler brat?"

"Wheeler?" Marik asked with a huff.

"Answer me, Ishtar!" Bakura growled.

Marik blinked several times to clear his vision and frowned up at Bakura, "What the hell are you talking about?" his voice beginning to clear as he woke up further.

"Are _you_ –"Bakura seethed through clenched teeth, "having _sex_- with Joey _Wheeler_!"

The Egyptian stared at him, dumbfounded. He opened his mouth but had no idea which stupid thing to address first.

Bakura grabbed the front of his shirt, "I'm not asking again!"

"No!" Marik yelled, yanking his shirt free before angrily shoving the thief off him. "What's the matter with you!"

"Is it Devlin then? Who is it, Marik? Tell me now!"

Marik sat up and made an appalled face, sputtering his offence, "I-wha-w-! What are you – have you lost it!"

Bakura's hands gripped the blankets tightly, his eyes wild.

"Why would you go to them? What could they possibly have to offer? Looks? Is that it? It all comes down to appearances with you?"

"_What_?" Marik's voice hit a higher note.

"Why would you do that!"

"Do _what_!" Marik demanded.

They stared hard at each other, searching for answers to two completely different questions.

"Bakura!" Marik insisted when he got no answer; his expression was insulted and confused. Bakura's look of outraged desperation eased into one of slight realization; as if he just considered what it was he was asking.

Marik's shoulders relaxed slightly, watching the pale man's eyes sink vacantly to the bedcovers as he leaned back to settle on his knees. "Are you sleep-talking right now?" he asked, "What's wrong with you?"

Bakura's mouth twitched but he gave no answer. He tried to sort his reasoning out but he was drawing a blank. "I-"

Marik raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Bakura turned with a scoff and let his feet fall to the floor, staring at the carpet. Marik's eyes ran over his hunched shoulders and troubled profile. How could he think Marik would ever … Marik replayed the accusing questions in his mind. Devlin? Joey? … Appearances? The blonde's face softened. Was Bakura … intimidated?

He tilted his head to better see the other's face. The usually hard and arrogant features were now betraying something inside of the thief. He looked a little lost.

"Did you dream that, Bakura?" Marik asked in calmer voice; Bakura tensed. "I haven't been with anyone."

Bakura got up and quickly left the room. Marik heard his footsteps down the hall, shortly followed by his bedroom door slamming.

Marik closed his eyes with a heavy sigh and fell back onto his pillow. Of all the stupid accusations… He opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, letting his aggravation mellow out. Still, he told himself, Bakura was clearly upset over it. Marik couldn't just let things stay that way. With a displeased groan, he threw the covers off and followed after.

Bakura lay in bed facing the wall. He cursed himself for behaving so rashly, and cursed himself more for letting Marik see him like that. He was suppose to be controlled and composed, not frantic and - Bakura scowled at the word - vulnerable. He'd always been careful how much he showed Marik, or anyone. But so soon after waking, and over such a thought as Marik with -

There was a creak in the hall. Bakura closed his eyes and growled quietly. Two quick knocks and then the door opened without invitation. He heard Marik's soft footfalls over his carpet, stopping next to the bed. Then there was just silence. Bakura went rigid, braced for whatever would come of his accusations. He would not turn around and he would not be bothered with this any further. The silence stretched on. Bakura glared blindly at the wall in front of him. He wasn't about to explain himself. Once Marik had said whatever he had planned to say, Bakura would tell him to get out and that would be that.

But the creak of his mattress said otherwise. Bakura's face eased slightly in bewilderment, as he felt the added weight of Marik sliding into bed behind him. Another brief moment of silence and then Marik's arm snaked over his, hand coming to halt over the thief's heart.

"Do you really think I would ever do that to you?" Marik whispered in his ear. Bakura didn't answer. His chest still felt tight; though now, partially due to his own humiliation. He fidgeted slightly, kneading the sheet in his closed fist. "I'm not so shallow as that, Bakura. If I were, I'd have left a long time ago." Marik's fingers softly stroked Bakura's chest through his night shirt. "If I had wanted anyone else for their looks I'd have them now, because I always get what I want."

Bakura let a steady breath out through his nose, letting his body relax a little. Marik scooted closer, curling his body against Bakura's back.

After another brief silence, Bakura muttered, "What _do _you want, Marik?"

Marik sat up just enough to place a tender kiss on the thief's cheek and leaned his head against the other's. "I want to go back to sleep," he said gently. "I'm still tired."

Bakura sighed again, letting his tension go, and placed his arm over Marik's.

"Alright," he said quietly. "Sorry I woke you."

And Marik- knowing this doubled as an apology for him being accused- carefully caressed Bakura's cheek with his own to show there were no hard feelings, hugged the thief tighter, and settled down to cuddle against the back of his neck. Bakura resisted the urge to grimace as his heart ached for contradicting reasons. He laid perfectly still as Marik slid back into sleep, his chest moving slightly against the thief's back and breathing gently into his white hair. _This isn't some fling, Marik. I wouldn't make any fuss at all over such nonsense. _Bakura eased his hand over Marik's and carefully intertwined their fingers.

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><p><strong>AN; *shrug*<strong>


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